Such a Nice Old Man
by IncomingAlbatross
Summary: The travels through time and space of a certain renegade Time Lord, and the Question left behind him. . . "That was the Doctor? But he seemed like such a nice old man." Formerly entitled The Curator, now a place for my drabbles and short oneshots. New chapter: Please Save Me From the Monsters - a poem about "Night Terrors." (And yes, that seems a bit random to me too.)
1. The Curator

**A/N: So, this will probably make no sense if you haven't seen or read ****_Shada _****(the novelization of which is actually really, really good), but it was just something I wanted to see in the special. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, especially since this is my first story here.  
**

**Summary: After the events of DotD, the Doctor has a question for Clara. Be warned, massive spoilers for Day of the Doctor.  
Time: Immediately post-DotD.  
Character(s): Eleventh Doctor, Clara**

* * *

So, ah, Clara," the Doctor began. "You said you, ah, talked to the Curator?"

She eyed him curiously, twirling her hair in her fingers. He was even more fidgety than normal, and doing a _very_ poor job of hiding a grin.

Of course, maybe that was because he'd just been relieved of the crushing, centuries-old guilt and anguish of having wiped out his own race. (And honestly, though she's aware of how ridiculously unfair she sounds, how _dare_ the Time Lords push him that far? Didn't any of them consider the burden they were forcing on him? And okay, yeah, definitely being ridiculous...but _seriously!_)

But anyway, fidgety Doctor asked her a question. And he seems to actually be waiting for the answer, as opposed to having moved on to fifteen other things after asking it.

"Well, it was more _he_ talked to _me_, I suppose. Looking for 'my friend the Doctor' - mine, not his, I mean. We did talk a bit, though." (Actually, some of the things he said - well, most of them - seemed a bit odd. Not "cryptic clues to save the universe with" odd or "evil scheming alien" odd, just...normal odd? He was charming, though.) All in all... "He seemed like such a nice old man," she said absently.

A minute and a half of uninterrupted, uncontrollable laughter later, she was still wondering just what about that remark was so funny.


	2. Who Takes Care?

**The TARDIS considers something the Doctor said in "Amy's Choice."**** Inspired by a line in that episode that struck me as a little odd when I first heard it.**

**Time: Immediately after"Amy's Choice."  
****Character(s): The TARDIS  
**

* * *

_"I choose my friends with great care."_

_You_ take care? Oh, of course you do, Thief. Because, clearly, _you're_ the one who's always decided who travels with us.

Oh, I'll grant that your opinions have some influence. But have you really forgotten how many you took on by "accident"?

I mean, honestly. Our Savage Girl was intelligent, but she hardly went through the whole dematerialization sequence by herself. (The Amiable One's clumsiness, of course, was entirely his own, and I only turned it slightly to my purposes. It was fortunate, though; Nerva needed you badly.)

And, of course, "detours" were also responsible for some of your friendships. I shudder to think how your Path might have turned out if I hadn't kept the two Teachers with us for as long as I did - or, for that matter, if I hadn't let you take them in the first place. (Though I probably wouldn't have kept them much longer. The Hurt One was about to join us anyway, and there was certainly no need to risk traveling in that awful Dalek construction.)

And then there was the Laughing One and her Stubborn Protector, and the Angry Girl (though that was half your fault). I would have kept our Explorer Girl, too, if I had had to, but I hardly had to try with her. It wasn't as though she ever really wanted to leave me.

How many of your friends have you really, deliberately chosen? (The ones you kidnap because it would be too inconvenient to let them go don't count.) I mean, there was the Young Rescuee, and our Steadfast One (a _very_ good decision there, Thief), and you and Exploring Girl both chose each other many Times when you could have left instead. And the Self-Seeking One - a slightly dangerous exception to my standards, but in the end, one that repaid both our gambles. And you have been seeking out company more, in general, since the War-Times.

On the whole, though, it is rather absurd to hear you claim credit for all of your strays' sterling characters. Even when you _are_ the one who brings them home, whether you realize it or not, _I_ am the one who lets you keep them.

* * *

**A/N: Savage Girl is, of course, Leela; the Amiable One is Harry; the Teachers are Ian and Barbara; the Hurt One is Stephan, who goes through a****_ lot_**** in the show; the Laughing One and the Stubborn Protector are Polly and Ben, though I'm not really happy with Ben's name; Angry Girl is Tegan (not sure about that one either); Explorer Girl is, obviously, our Sarah Jane; Young Rescuee is Vicki; the Steadfast One is Jamie; the Self-Seeking One is Turlough.**


	3. Memories

**Still re-calibrating after his latest regeneration, the Doctor's memory is being rather difficult. It's not _entirely _uncooperative, though. Some spoilers for "Deep Breath."**

**Time: During "Deep Breath," in the restaurant basement.**

**Character(s): The Twelfth Doctor, Clara**** (sort of)**

* * *

This day could probably have gone better. The Doctor's not certain, of course, because he thinks he has a history of his days going just about like this. But on a normal scale? He thinks this one would be pretty far from good.

He's in the middle of post-regeneration recovery, he's not sure Clara's past the "You're not the Doctor any more" stage yet, someone's torched a dinosaur in Victorian London...and the _eyebrows!_

Oh. That last one's probably not important, is it? He must have got distracted again. It'll be nice when he's a bit more used to the new body, one less tangent to go off on.

Also, he hopes his memories straighten out soon, they're all jumbled. (Granted, he knows who Clara is, a not un-noteworthy achievement at this stage. He's fairly certain he hasn't confused her with an old assistant once.)

But they're in the middle of some alien organ-harvester's larder (which _is_ more immediately important than his eyebrows or his accent, so, yes, stay focused), and the situation's bringing up lots of probably useful memories, and he can't grab hold of any of them.

"Droids harvesting spare parts, that rings a bell."

And it does, but there's also lots of other bells being rung by various other things, all clanging around together in his brain. It's making it very difficult to think.

He stoops down, trying to get a better look at the cyborg-thing.

Hmm. A man sitting in a fancy chair, hands on the arms, and the left half of his face all robotic... Another bell starts up in his brain, and for just a second, he gets an image of someone else. Another metal-faced man, in flashier clothes - he had a...robot parrot?

Yes! He manages to grab onto that, and pull it in, and _finally_ retrieves a semi-cohesive memory.

"Oh Captain, my captain!" he mutters. It doesn't satisfy the loudest bells, and it's not actually relevant, so he moves on. But it's a start.

* * *

**So yeah. I'm almost certain that last line there was meant as a ****_Pirate Planet_**** reference. Possibly ad-libbed by Peter Capaldi, considering how little connection it had to the rest of the script.**


	4. The Naming

**Summary: A baby's future is discussed, and a fitting name chosen. **

**Time: Pre-series, for the characters involved.**

**Characters: Well****_...Spoilers._**

* * *

"You made it!" The male said, ushering in his guest. "Brilliant to see you - we thought you wouldn't be able to arrive until the christening."

His sister-in-law shrugged and smiled. "So did I, but...well, I just couldn't wait to see the little babe. How is my new nephew? And my sister?"

At that moment, the individuals in question appeared from an inner room. "We're both doing wonderfully," the mother said, cradling her infant. She smiled at her older sister. "So this is my life now? Now I'm a mother, I'm just an afterthought, I suppose?"

The new aunt laughed, swiftly kissing the younger woman's cheek. "I'm afraid so, sissy. That's the price you pay for having an adorable baby." She bent over him in fascination. "Oh, he's so sweet! And tiny!"

"I know. It's to be expected, of course, since he was born almost three weeks early." His mother smiled. "We were scared for a while there, but he's just fine - though the doctors said he'll be fragile for a while, and apparently even he's smaller than most newborns."

"He is a very little baby. But he's still beautiful." She touched his cheek gingerly. "Aren't you beautiful, baby? I think you are. I'm your aunt, by the way."

"It's wonderful to see you, sis," the new mother said sincerely. "I'm so glad you were able to come sooner than you thought." She seated herself. "Oh, do you want to hold him?" she asked suddenly.

Her sister beamed at her. "Oh, yes! Thanks. I'll be careful, I promise." Seating herself next to her younger sibling, she very carefully took the infant in her arms. She stared at him, entranced.

"Oh, you are just incredible, aren't you? Hello, my little nephew. Is it scary, being in this huge world? Oh, look, his eyes are opening!" Indeed, he was blinking them open, gazing out at his new surroundings with alert dark eyes.

Both his parents bent over to see. "He must be wanting to meet his aunty," his mother suggested.

"Do you want to meet me?" she asked him. "Oh, you're such a darling, aren't you?" She looked up suddenly. "What's his name going to be?"

The younger sister shrugged. "We're... not sure yet, as a matter of fact. He's going to have my maiden name for a middle name, but we just can't settle on a first name." She paused. "Do you have a suggestion?"

The aunt smiled, but doubtfully. "I'm not certain you want any advice on this, sissy. It's...rather private, isn't it?"

The young father spoke up then. "As a matter of fact, I think that's a good idea. We wouldn't want just anyone's two cents, of course, but you've always had a...gift...for these things, haven't you?"

She smiled. "It could be called that, yes. Well, it's an honor that you've asked me. I suppose I'll have to give it my best try." She paused. "Let me think about it a moment..."

"Well, of course, sis. We're not expecting an idea at the drop of a hat!"

She stared down at the infant in her arms. Such a little thing he was. So much potential, so much unknown...though not quite as unknown to her as to others.

Having "the Sight," or "the Sense," or "a gift," or whatever you cared to call it, certainly made her life more interesting sometimes. Generally it didn't affect her day-to-day affairs. But this little nephew of hers...thoughts of him had been nagging at her since she'd first heard of his existence. She'd had to come visit early to see him.

_Hmm... What are you going to be, baby nephew of mine? _she thought now._ What will you do, what sort of person's waiting inside you? Let me see. What sort of man are you going to be?_

Time unfolded before her - bits and snatches of Future flowing through and around the infant. The strands of Time that he was woven into - the strands he would see to the weaving of himself. She couldn't see everything, of course, and nor could she retain all she saw. But she had what she wanted. She had a sense of the person he would grow to be - his nature, and his choices.

She looked up at her sister with a smile.

"Do you have a list?" she asked. "Even if I think of something different in the end, a list would be rather a good starting point."

The husband pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. "It's too big a decision, apparently. Every time we think we've settled it, we get cold feet for one reason or another."

"We even wrote down all the meanings of the names," his wife contributed.

The aunt's eyes began to scan the list, coming to an eventual stop less than hallway down.

"This one," she said, pointing. "Absolutely this one."

"Are you sure?" The man said doubtfully. "It's a big name for the little tyke."

"Oh yes," she assured him with a smile. "I couldn't possibly think of a better one."

"What's it mean, again?" The younger woman moved to look at the list over her sister's shoulder.

"_Man's defender_?" she read aloud, doubtfully. "That's... a lot to live up to, isn't it? Are you really sure that's the name for him? As you said... he's such a _little _baby."

"He'll grow up, little sister," the aunt pointed out confidently. "Trust me. I really do think it's a name he can carry."

Looks were exchanged between the two new parents.

"It is a fine name. If you're really certain..."

"Then I suppose that's the one we'll use."

The men leaned over to look at his son. "Well, you've got a name now, it seems. What do you think of that... Alistair?"

The soon-to-be-christened Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart blinked sleepily up at his father.

* * *

**So apparently, Alistair is the Scottish form of the Greek name Alexander, and both names share the meaning of ****_defender of man._**** This discovery made me so happy I had to write a story about it, even though I'm pretty sure my dialogue sounds absolutely nothing like England ****_or _****Scotland in the late nineteen-twenties.**

**Anyway, did anyone think this was going to be a story about the Doctor's name? ;)**


	5. Please Save Me From the Monsters

**Summary: A poem, chronicling the events of "Night Terrors." And yes, it seems a little random to me too. (The poem basically just appeared in my head one day in the middle of a long car ride.)  
Time: Well, I think the summary covered this, but . . . "Night Terrors."  
Characters: George and his dad.**

* * *

The lift here makes a scary noise  
I've a cupboard full of fear  
Please save me from the monsters  
Let me stay your child here

The landlord's got a growling dog  
A witch is living near  
But tell me you still love me  
All my fright would disappear

Please save me from the monsters  
Take me in your arms  
And tell me you still love me  
We'll be safe from all alarms

There's funny wind and moving toys  
I don't know what to do  
Please save me from the monsters  
I want to stay with you

The dolls are coming toward me  
I don't think I'm still your son  
Just tell me you still love me  
Then maybe I could run

Please save me from the monsters  
(Now you've got me in your arms)  
Please tell me you still love me  
(Now we're safe from all alarms)

The lift just makes a normal noise  
And the cupboard's drained of fear  
You saved me from the monsters  
And I'm still your child here

The landlord's safe and so's the witch  
All the threats I saw have cleared  
Now that I know you still love me  
All my fright has disappeared

You saved me from the monsters  
You took me in your arms  
I know that you still love me  
And we're safe from all alarms


End file.
